Love Worth Waiting For - Sherlolly One Shot
by lotrhobbitsherlock
Summary: This story started out as a joke, but ended up being good. So here is a Vamplock! Vampire Sherlock, Sherlolly. And please leave a review just so I know how you guys liked it and if y'all would like another one like it? And if so, would you like another vamplock! or something else similar, and if it's something different comment what you would like :)


The year was 1687, and the London air was moist as usual. Sherlock turned his coat collar up as he walked home, and a bad feeling swept over him as he quickened his pace. When Miss Hooper offered him a carriage ride home, he should have taken it. He heard a few pairs of footsteps from around the corner, and people laughing.

Sherlock quickly tried to turn down another street, but it was too late; the group had already seen him. Two men and a woman approached him, stopping him in his tracks. "Look what we have here lads." The woman said.

A tall, burly man with brown hair sniffed the air. "Smells like fresh blood." He spoke, making the other two laugh.

The three moved towards Sherlock, who started to back away matching the pace of their advance. His facial features showed no fear, but his heart was pounding in his chest. The woman laughed and began to explain to him, stepping closer, "Putting on a brave face does nothing for us darling."

"I have no money on me." He told the group.

"We don't want money laddie." A short, plump man with blonde hair stated with a thick Scottish accent.

"What do you want then?" Sherlock asked.

The woman only smirked and in seconds she was centimeters away from him. "You," She told him, and Sherlock felt a sharp pain in his neck.

His vision started to fade, as he felt blood trickle down his neck. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as it strained for life. All he saw was blurs of the three as they laughed, walking away. He fell to the ground, weakly feeling his neck. He pulled his hand away to see a blur of red on his hand.

"Sherlock!" He heard someone shout. Faintly, he heard heels start to run towards him. A brown headed woman knelt beside him. He couldn't make out her facial features, but he could tell her hair was in curls and she had a red dress on. "Oh, Sherlock… What have they done to you?"

He frowned his brows… He knew that voice. "Miss Hooper?" He choked out, "Molly Hooper?"

"Shhh." She hushed softly. "I'm going to give you a second chance. You don't deserve to die like this." She said, grabbing his wrist and biting it. Sherlock could see the red of her eyes, but this bite didn't hurt like the other did. She was gentle, and instead of taking blood it felt like blood was being pushed into him.

Pain suddenly took over Sherlock's body as something, he didn't know what, spread through him. Molly put his wrist down and kissed his cheek. "I'm going to take you home." She spoke softly. "I'll explain everything when you wake."

Molly shouted something to another man, but Sherlock didn't hear. His hearing was leaving him as was his sight. The pain in his body was taking everything from him, and his eyes finally closed.

.

Molly was covering her ears, trying to block Sherlock's screams in the next room. The venom was spreading through his body, killing him without him being dead. "I'm sorry Sherlock…" She whispered to herself.

"Miss Molly," A maid spoke and gently placed her hand on Molly's shoulder. "You did what you believe to be right." She told her. "There is nothing wrong with that."

"Thank you," Molly gave her a weak smile. "I just wish he didn't have to experience this curse at all."

"Miss Molly, If I may ask, why him?" The maid, Mrs. Maggie, asked. "You've never changed someone before?"

"They were just going to leave him to die." Molly explained.

Mrs. Maggie smiled to Molly. "I don't think that is the only reason." She told Molly. "You love him, don't you?"

"Is it that obvious?" Molly asked, letting out a small giggle.

"Maybe not to everyone, but to me, yes." Maggie said with a smile. "He was going to die eventually, so you can view this as a good thing." She continued. "You don't have to watch him grow old this way."

Molly was about to speak when a butler came and got her, telling her the venom fully spread through Sherlock's body. Molly quickly entered the room to see Sherlock lying there on the bed, almost lifeless. His shirt was ripped open and his hair was a mess. He had one leg out from under the sheets, his limb looking weak.

Molly took in a deep breath before going over and sitting next to him on the bed. Sherlock spoke in a hoarse voice, "What happened to me?"

"You were dying so I changed you." Molly told him. "I didn't want to see you die."

"Changed me into what?" He asked.

"What do you think?"

"Well," He panted out, turning his head to look at her. "Those people who attacked me," he started. "Either I took a dose, which I didn't today, or they weren't human."

"They were at one time, but not anymore." Molly explained. She took in a deep breath before letting it out to tell him. "Sherlock, they were vampires, as am I."

Sherlock looked at her for a second before laughing, shaking his head, and sitting up. "No, I'm dreaming. There are no such thing vampires." He told her. "Are you going to tell me that ghost, werewolves, and witches exist too." He laughed out.

"Yes," Molly simply told him. "Sherlock this isn't a dream."

"Okay, prove it to me." Sherlock challenged.

Molly frowned her brows, slightly agitated, but nodded. "Fine." She said, blinking her eyes to change her brown eyes to red. She opened her mouth, taking out her fangs to show him. "You can do the same." She said.

Sherlock looked at her still. "I have to be dreaming."

Molly sighed, shaking her head. "You aren't dreaming Sherlock."

Sherlock sat very still for quite a few minutes processing what has happened. He noticed that he had no heartbeat, nor pulse, but he was still living… It all seemed too real to be a dream, meaning Molly was telling the truth. Eventually, he whispered, "So now what?"

"Well Sherlock, that's up to you."

.

-Over 300 years later-

Sherlock sat in the lab, looking into a microscope when Molly came in, holding the results he wanted.

Another man was there as well. He was rather short, with light blonde hair. He seemed to be older than Sherlock and herself, look-wise at least, but he was still very handsome. He looked oddly familiar, but Molly, as well as Sherlock, thought they might have known one of his ancestors. "Hello," She greeted.

"Hello," He smiled back to her. "John Watson," He said, sticking out his hand to shake. Watson… She knows that name, but then again it might be a popular last name.

"Molly Hooper." She said, taking his hand to shake. "Are you going to be Sherlock's new roommate?" She asked.

"Um, how did you figure that?" John asked.

"I've known Sherlock for a very long time." Molly answered.

"Very well, I'll see you tomorrow John." Sherlock said and stood to leave, of course after giving his deductions.

"Wait, I don't know where we're meeting, and I don't even know your name." John said. **(These dialogues won't be exact)**

Sherlock stuck his head back into the room. "The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street." He gave a wink before leaving again. "Come Molly!" He shouted back. "We can't be late!"

Molly looked at her watch. "Oh, look at the time." She said realizing it was time for them to feed. If they don't feed soon, the sun's rays would seriously begin to affect them. Even though both her and Sherlock could walk out into the sunlight due to their all animal diet, instead of being forced into the shadows from feeding on humans, the sun does take its toll after a while.

"Molly!" Sherlock called again.

"I'm coming!" She yelled back, smiling to John one more time before leaving.

She quickly caught up with Sherlock just as he was entering the elevator. "You know, for a man who is over three hundred years old, you are very impatient."

"We have a time schedule for hunting, you know that." Sherlock said as the elevator opened and they headed towards the exit.

Molly simply smiled with a giggle, but didn't say anything as they continued to walk. They went to their normal spot to hunt, an hour from town by car, five minutes by foot.

Molly giggled when she spotted the old cabin they have stayed in a few times. They haven't stayed there in about a hundred years, but the memories there still made her smile. Sherlock glanced towards Molly's face, "Why are you smiling?" He asked.

"The cabin." Molly said and pointed to it.

Still puzzled, Sherlock edged on, "What about it?"

"Just thinking back to the memories there." She explained. "Why did we stop going?"

"Times change Molly." Sherlock told her, matter of factly.

Molly stopped, grabbing his arm to stop him as well. "We haven't changed."

Sherlock stepped closer to her so that he towered over the much shorter Molly. "Yes, we have." He told her. "More than anyone alive now."

She gave out a puff of air at his statement. He may have changed, but she for sure hasn't. She still loved Sherlock, God only knows why, but she did. She never stopped, and each day it seems that she loves him more, though he never bothered to return any feelings. "Sherlock- "She started, but he interrupted and started to leave.

"I'll see you tomorrow Molly." He said and in seconds he was gone.

Molly balled her fist in anger, and yelled in annoyance. "William Sherlock Scott Holmes!" She yelled. "Why do you always have to leave when…" Her voice quieted the more she spoke. "When I'm going to… When I want to…" She let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping, and she un-balled her fist. It never fails; every time she wants to ask or tell Sherlock how she feels, he leaves. It's like he knows what she wants to say, and only mocks her now by leaving. She let out one more sigh before speaking. "See you tomorrow, Sherlock…"

.

Sherlock exited a cab to see John waiting in front of 221B. Sherlock has moved about so many times over the years, he lost count of how many places he has called home, but that is one of the curses that all vampires shared. He couldn't let the people around him see that he never aged. John gave a smile as Sherlock came closer. "Ah, Mr. Holmes." John said.

"Sherlock, please." He injected.

John nodded and soon they stood in the living room of the flat. Mrs. Hudson was nice it seemed. _'Just like her great grandmother'_ Sherlock had thought. Molly used to babysit Mrs. Hudson's great grandmother a few times, so considering Mrs. Hudson was up in her years, tells how long ago that was. This was the second time he has been in this part of London. This, in fact, is the second time he has rented this flat, but it looked a bit different than when he had it in the late 1800s. **(See what I did there ;))** The wallpaper was different, as was the drapes and cabinets.

"There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing two." Mrs. Hudson told them.

"Of course we'll be needing two." John stated firmly.

Sherlock didn't say anything, he just looked at all the things that have changed since the last time being here. "My bedroom is the back one." He said and pointed towards the one next to the kitchen. "That was mine last time." He mumbled the last part so no one could hear. "John," He said, looking to the shorter man. "Do you know anything about your ancestors?" He asked.

John frowned his brows in confusion at the question. "Not much, no…Why?"

Sherlock looked at him, studying him some, then nodded. "Alright." He said and turned to look out the window. It was funny how this John Watson and his ancestor were both army doctors, though the John Watson he knew back in the 1800s seemed to be sharper.

Lestrade came in, asking help on a murder case. Sherlock acted calm until Lestrade left. He started to literally jump for joy. "Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh, it's Christmas!" Sherlock had cheered. John looked at him odd, but this was normal behavior of course.

It wasn't until they were riding in the taxi that John learned that Sherlock was a consulting detective and how good he was. "You've proved your point." John said.

"I have excellent eyesight." Sherlock stated. He had good eyesight before he was a vampire and now that it was enhanced, his job is even easier.

Sherlock didn't enjoy dealing with Anderson and Sally again, but in thirty years he doesn't have to deal with them anymore. Thirty years is only a blink of an eye to him now.

Solving cases were simple for Sherlock now. He used to take every case but around the last time he was in 221B, he started only taking the interesting ones… It had been a year that John Watson moved into 221B with Sherlock, and, in a phrase, all hell broke loose.

Molly came into the living room, letting herself in, while John was out grocery shopping. "Every time I walk into this place I always think of old times with Watson." Molly said, sitting down in John's chair across from Sherlock. "I miss him honestly."

"John's a good replacement." Sherlock said. "They're practically the same person."

"Are you going to tell him?" Molly asked.

Sherlock frowned her brows in confusion. "Tell him what?"

"You know what Sherlock. You told Watson you were a vampire, why not John?"

"I didn't tell Watson until over a year of knowing him, I say I have time to think about it." Sherlock explained.

"Has he questioned it?" Molly further asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said. "Just last week he asked why I was out so late and smelled like, his words, 'wet dog.'"

Molly frowned at this. "Dog?"

"No, I wasn't around a werewolf." Sherlock sneered. "Horrendous creatures." He added, in which Molly gave a small sigh of relief. Werewolves tended to be rough, and a couple of them took a liking to Sherlock in a romantic way. Thankfully he never thought anything of it.

"Good," She said, continuing to smile. "Sherlock, do you remember when you were little?" She asked. "As in, do you remember being a child?"

"Vaguely, yes." He answered. "Why?"

"It must be nice…" She said. "Being able to remember…" Molly was about a hundred years older than Sherlock, and her memory of being a human seemed to be stolen from her. "I actually used to watch you when you were a boy since your family was right next door to me." She continued. "I used to watch from my balcony as you and your older brother played in the backyard. I would imagine what it would be like if I was a child again being able to play with the two of you." She gave him a weak smile, picking at the skin under her nails.

"Why are you just now telling me this?" He asked.

"Because I went to your brother's grave for the first time in what seems like forever." Molly explained. "I thanked him." She gave Sherlock a smile. "I know he had a hand in raising you, so I thanked him for raising you well." She looked down at her hands then back up to Sherlock. "Do you miss him? You're brother?"

"From what I remember we didn't get along while I was with him." Sherlock told. "So, I don't know."

"Do you miss Watson?" She further questioned.

"Molly, why so many sentimental questions all of a sudden. If I recall we had this same conversation not too long after Watson died."

Molly gave him a soft smile. "I was looking at my old photos and sketches." She said. "I drew a picture of you playing as a boy once that I believe I showed you."

Sherlock gave a single nod. "You have."

Molly simply smiled, digging in her purse and pulling out her sketchpad and pencil. "Don't move." She told Sherlock.

"Again?" Sherlock asked. "I could lose count of how many sketches you have of me." He sounded annoyed, but a small smirk was planted on his lips.

"You are my only close friend." Molly explained. "And I enjoy drawing you; you have good bone structure." She constantly looked up to Sherlock and down at her sketchbook as she drew. "You are a very beautiful person to draw as well." She said quietly, but she knew Sherlock heard her.

Sherlock's eyebrows rose at her statement, but only for a second. This isn't the first time Molly has told him something like that, but his reaction is always the same. He never knows how to react to her compliments.

Molly smiled as she drew Sherlock's face, though, in her drawing, she slicked his hair back like he used to. It looks good how he has it now, but she likes it better slicked back. "Are you busy tonight?" She suddenly asked.

"Probably not, why?" He answered.

Molly simply smiled at him, adjusting her position in the chair slightly. "You'll see." She said.

"I hate surprises." He grumbled.

"Well, you will have to get used to it." She said, earning another grumble from Sherlock, but both giving a small smile.

.

"Where are we going?" Sherlock asked as Molly practically dragged him through woods.

"Scotland." She simply said.

"Okay, I'll rephrase my statement." Sherlock said. "Where are we going in Scotland?"

Molly just smiled back to him, giggling, and continued to pull him along. She told him to dress nice, which honestly was his normal apparel.

Sherlock noticed what Molly had worn. She wore a little black dress that went to her mid-thigh with some boots, and a short leather jacket that ended right below her breast and covered her shoulders. _'She looks nice'_ Sherlock had thought as they continued to run.

Molly pulled him all the way to a small pub-like building right next to the borders of Scotland. "Ta-da!" Molly had cheered.

Sherlock knew this place, so why was this such a secret. "Okay, why here?" He asked. "And why keep it a secret?"

"If I would have told you where we were going, you wouldn't have come with me." Molly said, and Sherlock nodded indicating that she was right. "We haven't been here in a while, and last time was just a bad experience." She told him, grabbing his hand and leading him inside.

"I almost got killed last time we were here." Sherlock grumbled.

"Well that's because of your smart mouth." Molly said. "Last time I was here it was pleasant."

Inside was a vampire club; one of the few places a vampire can actually get drunk. The last time Sherlock was here, he managed to get himself drunk and got in a fight with a much larger vampire and a werewolf. That night is partly the reason Molly, and Sherlock for that matter, doesn't care for werewolves.

The two sat at the bar, Molly ordering them a couple of drinks. Sherlock was hesitant to drink in a place like this. He danced the rim of the mug around his lips before finally taking a sip. The drink was specially made for vampires. If a human drank it, they would get wasted in one sip.

"Alright," Molly said as she put her mug down. "I needed that to gain enough courage to dance." She said and stood up. She held out her hand to Sherlock. "Dance with me?" She asked. Sherlock looked to Molly's face, to her hand, then back to her face. Molly let out a small laugh. "Come on, you love to dance."

"I haven't danced in a very long time." He told her.

"So? You're good at it." Molly said with a smile. He still didn't say anything, so Molly grabbed his hand and pulled him to the dance floor, laughing as she did.

Molly had pulled Sherlock close, putting her arms around his neck as his hands rested on her hips. "Déjà vu." Sherlock said. "Every time we dance I remember that night I got changed." He told her. "I was leaving a ball and you and I danced that night."

Molly gave a soft smile and nodded. "Is it selfish of me to say that I'm glad you got changed… My life would be awfully lonely if you wouldn't have gotten changed."

"I don't think it's selfish." Sherlock told her, giving her a small smile. Molly is the only person that can break through his walls and see the real him… Hell, she has a door to get past his walls with ease. She's the one who sees his genuine smile the most, and the only one who can get him to admit anything.

"Thank you for being my friend all this time Sherlock." She said, her usual smile on her lips.

"I should be the one thanking you." Sherlock said. "Not many people can put up with my bullsh*t."

Molly giggled at his statement. "Happy Birthday Sherlock." She said and leaned up, kissing his cheek.

Sherlock gave out an awkward cough before speaking. "Since when do we celebrate birthdays?"

Molly shrugged. "We haven't in the past two hundred years, but we can use it as an excuse to go out."

"I'm surprised you even remember my birthday." He admitted.

"You're the only person I actually know for real and consider a friend." She stated. "Of course, I remember."

.

Molly giggled as she and Sherlock entered 221B. It was past three in the morning, and Sherlock shushed her to not wake Mrs. Hudson and John. "Do you want me to call you a cab?" Sherlock asked her once they entered the living room.

"No, I'll just stay here for the night." Molly said and sat down on the couch, yanking her boots off.

"When is the last time you slept?" Sherlock asked. Vampires don't need to sleep, but it helps to sleep and re-energize every once in a while. The vampires who never sleep are normally grumpy, old, and unbearable to deal with.

"Two months ago." Molly answered, taking her stockings off and tossing them in the direction her shoes were. "You?"

"Six months ago." Sherlock answered.

"Well, maybe we should both sleep." Molly suggested, standing up. "Unzip me please," She said as she turned her back to Sherlock and moved her hair out of the way. With Sherlock, she felt completely comfortable undressing in front of him. Sherlock unzipped her dress for her, and she easily stepped out of it. "May I borrow a shirt?" She asked.

Sherlock nodded, disappearing in his room and coming back out with a navy-blue button up. Molly gave him a smile, putting the shirt around her shoulders. She started to button it when John came in half asleep.

He rubbed his face and stopped once he noticed the two. Molly was wearing Sherlock's shirt, which thankfully covered her bum, but it was half-way undone, and Sherlock was standing right next to her. To anyone who just walked in it looked like something was about to, or just happened. "Um, am I interrupting something?" John asked.

"No," Molly answered, finishing buttoning Sherlock's shirt. Sherlock quickly took a couple of steps away from her. "It's not what it looks like."

"You can sleep in my room Molly." Sherlock said rather quickly. "I'll sleep on the couch."

John's eyebrows rose at his statement. "Wait, you are giving up your bed to someone? As in you are being nice?" In the short time John knew Sherlock, he figured out that he wasn't a giving person.

"Goodnight Molly." Sherlock said, not answering John.

Molly could tell Sherlock wanted to her leave, so she nodded, going into his room and shutting the door. John looked at Sherlock as he got a blanket from the closet. "Well?" John pushed on.

"I've known her for a very long time." Sherlock answered him. "She gets privileges others do not."

John simply shrugged, going into the kitchen and getting some water before leaving. Sherlock gave out a small sigh, taking off his coat and undoing a few buttons on his shirt. He heard the door to his room open again and Molly walk out. She didn't say anything; she simply took his hand and led in the bedroom with her. "Just sleep in here with me." She finally said as she closed the door. "We've slept together once, so it's not that big of a deal." Molly crawled in bed, getting under the covers. "You might want to change though."

Sherlock gave out a puff of air before changing into sleeping pants and a t-shirt. He put a pillow between Molly and himself before lying down and getting comfortable. "Goodnight Molly."

Molly was frowning at the pillow. "You're mean." She told him.

"What? Why?"

"The pillow." She said gesturing to it. "We had one intimate night together that most likely eliminates all boundaries." Molly smiled, meaning it as a joke but Sherlock frowned.

"We agreed to never talk about that Molly."

Molly frowned at this. "Sherlock… I was jo- "

"Goodnight Molly." Sherlock said, turning his back to Molly.

Molly sighed, turning her back to Sherlock as well. "Goodnight Sherlock…" She said. If she could cry, she probably would. Why not talk about it? Apparently, it was a mistake to Sherlock, but not to her. It makes her sad and angry whenever she tries to bring it up and he gets angry that she did. _'Why can't we never talk about feelings, Sherlock?'_ Molly had thought. She gave another sigh before closing her eyes and allowing herself to sleep.

.

The next morning Sherlock acted as if nothing happened; just like he always does… John came in, pouring himself a cup of coffee and gave Molly a soft smile. "Good morning Molly." He greeted.

"Good morning." She said, smiling back.

The two were acting normal, but John could tell something was going on between them. "Um… Did something happen last night?" He asked.

Sherlock practically slammed his mug down on the counter. "If you are referring that Miss Hooper and I would possible have any sexual relationships with each other than you are wrong, and- "

"Sherlock!" Molly interrupted his rant, trying to her hardest to hide her anger. "He wasn't referring to that." Molly huffed and turned to John. "Yes John, we had a little disagreement last night, thank you for your concern, but we are fine." She gave John a soft smile, and got up. "I have to go home and change for work now." Molly put on her shoes and grabbed her purse, already had changed back to her clothes earlier. "Good day John." She smiled at him. She glanced at Sherlock but didn't say anything as she headed to leave.

"You're angry with me." Sherlock mentioned.

"Oh Look! He finally noticed." Molly turned on her heals. "Of course I'm upset with you Sherlock! Every girl wants to hear that they're undesirable! It's nice to know that any physical relationship with me is revolting to you." Molly spat at him then quickly left, slamming the door behind her.

"Good job." John said sarcastically, leaving the room to go get dressed for work.

Sherlock only sighed, finishing his mug before he too got dressed.

.

Six more months passed and Sherlock was walking on eggshells around Molly. She never fully spoke to him like she used to; only when necessary. She only came to 221B to meet Mary, John fiancé. Even then, while she was there, she ignored Sherlock.

She was now at the apartment but, only to help Mary with shopping bags. "Hello John." She greeted him with a smile, but said nothing to Sherlock.

Sherlock gripped the pen he was holding in anger before shouting, "When are you going to stop ignoring me?"

"I have nothing to say to you." She huffed, putting the shopping bags down.

"Nothing to say?! Oh really, because for the past three hundred years you had no problem finding things to talk about!"

"Three hundred years?" John mumbled, but Sherlock and Molly payed no attention to him.

"What do you want me to say Sherlock? I'm sorry for yelling at you? because I'm not!" Molly yelled.

"I don't even know why you got so upset!" Sherlock yelled back. "Do you want me to apologize? Fine, I'm sorry for whatever reason!"

"For whatever reason?! Are you honestly that blind?! Do you think that one intimate night we had two hundred years ago was the only one I wanted us to have! Not just sex Sherlock, more than that!"

Sherlock blinked a few times. He wasn't expecting her to say that… "How long have you felt this way?" He finally asked, his angered tone gone.

"You really are blind to feelings aren't you." Molly huffed. "Sherlock, I felt that way from since you were human!" Molly swallowed as if she was about to cry even though she was physically unable to. "Sherlock, I've been in love with you since before you even got changed. I changed you to a vampire because I couldn't bear the thought that the man I loved was dying!"

"Wait a minute." John finally said as he and Mary sat on the couch. "Vampire?" He questioned.

"Oh, yes. I probably should have told you." Sherlock mentioned not even bothering to glance there way. "We're vampires by the way."

"I'm dreaming." Marry mumbled.

"You're not, I promise." Sherlock stated as he finally turned there way. "I thought the same thing back in 1687."

Molly huffed, not wanting to deal with anyone anymore. She wanted to be alone and maybe read a good book. "Goodbye Sherlock."

"Molly wait," Sherlock grabbed her arm.

"What?" She spat at him. "You never want to talk about that night! Why? Yes, we were drunk, but we weren't that drunk to not know what we were doing! Why don't you ever want to talk about it and get mad when I bring it up!" She shouted. "Oh, that's right; any sexual interaction with me his revolting to you!" She yanked her arm away and within seconds was gone.

"How did she leave that quickly?" John asked, shaken up by what he just saw.

"Vampire." Sherlock simply said, grabbing his coat and heading towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Mary asked.

"Out." Sherlock said and left without another word.

John hesitantly looked towards Mary who was clearly as shaken up as he was, "What just happened?"

.

Sherlock stood in front of Molly's old home that stood on the other side of London, far away from where they were now… The home that she took him to that night he was changed. He didn't mean to hurt Molly like he did. When he told John he and Molly wouldn't possibly be in any sexual relationship, he didn't mean it as he found the idea revolting as Molly said he did.

"Can I help you?" He heard a female voice ask.

He turned to see a younger girl, about fourteen, standing there. "Oh, no. I just have memories with this house." He told her.

"Oh, well my family has lived in the house for many years now, so I don't know what business you would have." The girl smiled, not bothered by his presents.

"I know a lot about an ancestor of your then." Sherlock told her. "Molly Hooper."

"Oh! Grandmother told me about her! She disappeared after saving a man with the last name… Um…" The girl wracked her brain for the name. "Holmes, I believe."

Sherlock gave a soft smile. "That was my ancestor." He told her. He couldn't tell her it was he himself; she would think him crazy.

"Oh, that's sweet." The girl smiled to him. "Grandmother would tell me stories of how she loved him, though, they never knew what she saved him from."

"Some say she saved him from muggers," Sherlock told her. "And others say she saved him from himself… In fact, I know she did."

"Their story is my favorite grandmother tells me." The girl stepped closer to Sherlock, smiling up at him. "Do you think he loved her back?"

Sherlock swallowed, thinking about it before answering. "I know he did."

The girl smiled at him. "I think so too." She said. "Well, goodbye. It was nice talking with you." The girl said and continued inside.

Sherlock took in a deep breath and let it out. He knew Molly wasn't home right now… There was only one place she could be.

.

Molly sat in the old cabin, sitting on the bed she just cleaned. She ended up cleaning the whole cabin, making it look livable again. She was reading a book; one of the many she has read numerously. She couldn't concentrate though… She was thinking about Sherlock and their argument. She remembered the events of two hundred years ago like it was yesterday… It was Sherlock's birthday and Watson had convinced them to go drinking. Human drinks didn't get them drunk of course, but a vampire bartender gave them the good stuff… She remembers going home with him and how his skin felt against hers. She remembered the tasted of him… His lips… His blood… Him…. She remembered how he felt inside her, and how he would whisper sweet nothings to her even though that was completely out of his character… "He didn't even deny my words…" She murmured to herself.

"Well, you never let me." Sherlock said, making Molly jump.

"Sherlock!" She said, getting up. "When did you get here?"

"Just a moment ago." He said and sat next to her on the bed.

"Just leave me be Sherlock…" She said, falling back on the bed, her head resting on the pillow.

"No, I won't" He said, his brows frowning. "Molly I didn't mean to hurt you. Do you realize how important you are to me? Everyone else eventually leaves me either by dying or just because of my arrogant personality, but you never do. You stayed with me for three hundred years, and for whatever reason, you love me somehow." Sherlock let out a sigh, hesitantly placing his hand on Molly's leg. "Molly, you told me you've loved me even before I was changed. Romantic relationships, or relationships for that matter, aren't my best areas… you know that."

"Sherlock," Molly said and sat up. "I understand that, but…"

"I never said the idea of a relationship with you was revolting." He defended, but in a kind tone.

"I sort of just said that out of anger." Molly gave a weak laugh, sitting up again. "But we never talk about it. You get angry every time I bring up that night… Why?"

Sherlock let out a sigh, shaking his head. "I don't know honestly."

Molly let out a shaky breath, hesitant to ask her next question, but it was Sherlock… She can ask and tell him anything. "What it a bad experience?"

"No," Sherlock said as if it was obvious. "I never like talking about romantic things, but I guess I should get over that."

Molly gave a small smile. "You really should… because now we need to talk about it." She let out a small giggle while she spoke, "It took us two hundred years to talk about it, but I guess now is as good time as any." Sherlock let out a small laugh at her words, making Molly smile. "I haven't heard that laugh since Watson died." She smiled to him. "I love that laugh."

Molly looked at him and she knew that their whole argument was in vain. She knew he loved her to some degree, and that was good enough for her. Sherlock moved his hair to the side like he always does when he's thinking of the proper words to say. "Molly- "He started, but she interrupted him with a kiss. She kissed him like it was the last time she would never be able to kiss him again.

"I love you, Sherlock." She spoke against his lips. "This time we aren't drunk." She gave a weak laugh before kissing him again. She pushed his coat off his shoulders, and started undoing his shirt.

"Last time I believe we were in this same bed." Sherlock pointed out.

"You were always the observant one." Molly giggled, trailing her lips down his neck and kissing his Adam's apple. "If I remember correctly, your Adam's apple was your weak spot." She said, kissing it again.

"Every man has one." Sherlock said with a gulp. His voice was shaky as he spoke, causing Molly to pull away to look at him.

"Sherlock, are you… are you nervous?" She asked.

"Well I haven't bloody done this in two hundred years." He told her as if it were obvious.

Molly giggled, giving him a quick kiss. "It's cute." She said. She got in his lap, straddling him, and lifted her arms for him to take off her sweater. Sherlock pulled her sweater over her head, Molly kissing him again once it was off. "Wait a minute," She suddenly said and pulled away again. "You mean to tell me I am the only woman you have ever been with?" She asked. "Over the whole three hundred and sixty years of your life?"

"Yes." Sherlock answered, and Molly could swear he blushed.

Molly gave a soft giggle before kissing him again. She found the fact that he was so pure attractive. She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, tossing it aside. His skin was cold under her fingers, just like any vampire. Their hearts didn't pound, but Molly swore if her heart was alive it would have burst by the feelings of Sherlock's fingers on her.

His hands rested on her hips, feeling her smooth skin under his touch. She loved the feeling of his lips on her neck, and she bit her lip before speaking. "Bite me." She told him. Sherlock didn't hesitate as she felt his teeth sink into her. For vampires, being bit was one of the best feelings in the world, especially by the one you love.

Molly smiled as she heard Sherlock moan and growl against her neck, holding her tighter. She reached down, undoing his trousers and slipping her hand into his boxer-briefs. Sherlock growled again, pulling away from her neck and resting his forehead on her shoulder. "You are not making this easy on me." He said, his voice deep.

Molly giggled, kissing down his neck. "Nope." She spoke before biting him, and she never thought Sherlock could make the sound that escaped his lips. Molly pushed him to lay on his back. She giggled as Sherlock yipped when she grabbed his member. She pulled away from him, pulling down his trousers and boxers.

"Why am I the only one naked?" He asked, a smirk planted on his lips. Molly didn't answer, only kissed along his body. She bit at his shoulder, going down to his side, then his hip. "I'm going to have bite marks all over me at this rate."

"That's the idea." She said against the skin of his thigh, biting down. Sherlock's legs jolted as she did so, causing her to have to hold him down. "I think we got blood on the sheets." Molly joked, seeing Sherlock's blood drip to stain the white sheets.

Molly came back up to Sherlock's mouth, making sure to bite his other hip before doing so. She removed the rest of her clothing, and laid on her back, pulling Sherlock on top of her. Sherlock kissed her, trailing his lips down her chest and stomach. He bit right under her belly button, going back up to bit right under her breast. Molly dug her fingers in his curls, pulling at his hair and loving the moan he gave as she did so. "Enough foreplay." She said, yanking his head back up to kiss him, flipping them over, and sinking down on him.

This time felt better than last. They weren't drunk, and Sherlock loved her this time. His face was buried in her neck as he rocked into her, grunting as he did. "Sherlock," She spoke. "Say it." She gasped, not about to fully elaborate her statement.

"Say what?" He asked with a small growl.

"Say that you love me." She told him. "You do, don't you?"

Sherlock pulled away slightly to look at her face. His hair was a mess and his eyes were blood red with want, as was hers. "Of course I do." He told her. "I love you… Molly Hooper."

Molly's head fell back as she felt her climax hit, and Sherlock kissed the base of her neck. After all these years he finally said it, and that made her stomach turn in ways she never thought it could.

Sherlock gave a growled moan as he reached his limit to, but he didn't stop rocking into her. "You do realize," Sherlock started as his climax finished, but his movements never ceased. "We're vampires, so that means our stamina incessant."

"I don't have anywhere better to be tonight." Molly giggled, kissing him again.

.

It was well in the morning as Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed, slipping his boxers and shirt on, but not bothering to button it. Molly had put on her undergarment, but her clothes still sat in a pile on the floor. "That was a lot longer than last time." Molly said with a giggle. "Last time we only went three rounds." She moved to wrap her arms around Sherlock from behind, resting her head on his shoulder. "This time you were panting towards the end." She kissed his jawline.

"I wasn't panting." Sherlock defended, but Molly didn't believe him.

"A vampire's stamina is much higher than a human's but after the fifth round, even we start to get winded." She said with a giggle. "It's okay. I like the fact that you started to get tired."

Sherlock only shook his head, but smiled nonetheless. "Are you hungry?" He asked as he stood.

"A little yes, but…" Molly swore she would be blushing if she could. "I'm actually rather sore."

Sherlock smirked at this, leaning down to kiss her. "Then I did a good job." He told her, both giving a laugh. "I'll bring you back something." He said, slipping on his trousers, but, again, not bothering to button up his shirt.

"We could always just live here." Molly suddenly said, looking around. "It's not like we need actual food, nor a job."

Sherlock looked to her, studying her to see if she was being serious or not. Molly was being very serious as she smiled to him. "Maybe after John dies… That will be two Watson's I have to watch die… So, I doubt I will want to deal with the real world anyway."

Molly gave a soft smile at this. "You'll find another Watson in a hundred years." She told him.

Sherlock gave a soft smile. "Yes, but I don't think I could go through that a third time." He kissed her before leaving, and she fell back on the bed. If she had to spend eternity with someone… Out of all the people in the world… She was glad it was Sherlock.

.

Sherlock and Molly were sitting with John, Mary, and their new daughter Rosie. They explained most things, but things were still sketchy on whether or not John was still going to help Sherlock solve crimes. Sherlock told John of his ancestor and how they would solve cases together in the very same building.

"So," John began. "You are over three hundred years old." He said, bringing the topic up again.

"Yes, Molly is just past four hundred." Sherlock answered him.

"Do I have a beacon that attracts only the most insane ideas ever." John said, rubbing his hand over his face.

Molly let out a small giggle. "Watson said the same thing… In that exact same chair in fact."

"Don't think of me any different John." Sherlock told him. "I would still very much enjoy your company as I solve cases." John looked at him, seeming to be hesitant. "I'm still the same Sherlock Holmes, John. I'm no different in how I act."

John dropped his head, letting out a deep sigh. "Bloody hell, alright. My wife is an ex-assassin and my best friend is a vampire who solves crimes. Alright, a normal life is out of the question."

"Oh please," Sherlock said. "A normal life is so overrated."

.

-150 years later-

Sherlock sat in his lab as usual. He and Molly did live in the cabin for about 100 years after John died, but both wanted to go work again. Molly was sitting beside him, looking over some paper work when Stamford walked in with a man. "Sherlock." He said. This was the fourth Stamford Sherlock has met, but each one was a bit different, unlike John. John always was about the same. "This is an old friend of mine, John Watson."

Sherlock smiled hearing the name of his best friend… besides Molly. "You're looking for a flat to share." Sherlock said. "My wife Molly and I are looking at a flat in Baker Street, if you don't mind sharing with us." Sherlock said, standing up. Molly was smiling, glad to see John, at least another version of him, again.

"Um, we don't know a thing about each other." John said confused.

Sherlock smiled. "Let me guess," He started. His deduction skills could figure out everything he was about to say, but he already knew henceforth. "You're an army doctor who has a sister named Harriet with a drinking problem. You're named after your father who died, as well as your mother. You spent twenty years serving in the military till you got shot. You have a limp in your leg, but your therapist thinks it's phycological, which is most likely true. You started a blog, but have nothing to write for it, but my dear Watson you will if you move in with me." Sherlock expressed. "Have I missed anything?"

John opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again, baffled. He shook his head slightly before talking "How could you possibly know how long I spent in the military or the fact that I'm named after my father."

Sherlock simply smiled. "We'll see you tomorrow John." Sherlock said, grabbing his coat. "Come on Molly."

"Pleasure to meet you." Molly smiled to John.

"I don't know where we are meeting," John said. "I don't even know your name."

Sherlock smirked, remembering how over a hundred years ago they had the exact same conversation. "The name is Sherlock Holmes, my wife is Molly Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street." Sherlock gave a wink before grabbing Molly's hand and heading out the building.

"I told you, you would find another Watson in a hundred years." Molly said with a laugh.

"The game is on once again Mrs. Holmes." Sherlock said, his smirk never leaving his face.

*Hope you liked it*


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